


This Is Not In My Job Description

by Siberianskys



Category: Dark Angel, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Crossover, F/M, M/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 10:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siberianskys/pseuds/Siberianskys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton is sent to recruit Max Guevara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Not In My Job Description

Clint hated Seattle. Okay, that wasn’t strictly true. He hated what The Pulse had done to Seattle. It was hard to believe that this near carbon copy of Cold War East Berlin could be the same city that he and Phil had enjoyed so much in the early years of their marriage, when they still lived in the Coulson’s family home in Portland. He stared out of the passenger window at the gas lines full of desperate people as Natasha slowed the 1985 Honda Accord and stopped at the checkpoint. 

“Sector Passes,” the bored, but diligent officer demanded.

Natasha handed them over silently.

The officer stared at their documents before slowly lifting his wide eyes and handing them back, his hand shaking. 

“I guess S.H.I.E.L.D. still has a reputation out here,” Natasha said, once they were out of earshot. 

“That kid probably never even heard of S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Clint replied, laughing. “I think it was Fury making sure our real names, or close enough in your case, were on those passes.”

“You think he was more scared of me than of an agency that could disappear him and everyone he’s ever met with one phone call?” 

“Maybe he was smarter than he looked,” Clint said, sitting up straighter as they neared their destination. “You sure you don’t want to do this?”

“You scared of a little girl, Hawkeye?” Natasha snorted. 

“That little girl could have been one of your sister trainees in the Red Room and I’m pretty sure she could throw Cap around. I know I’m just a stupid ex-carny, but I ain’t that stupid.” 

“So what’s the plan?” Natasha asked.

“I’m taking a page out of Stark’s book, making it up as I go.”

He winced when Natasha’s only response was a slowly raised eyebrow.  
***

Clint limped down Crash’s poorly maintained stairs, using the time the feigned disability gave him to take in his surroundings and maybe get eyes on his target, hopefully without raising the suspicions of any of the other mutant super soldiers that inhabited this establishment. All jokes aside, he still didn’t know why he’d been given this assignment. Natasha really did make the most sense. He didn’t believe that Fury sent him in just because he’d brought in the Black Widow all those years ago. It was very unlikely that the kid would react to him the same way as Natasha had. This situation was completely different. Climbing awkwardly onto a stool at the far end of the bar, he ordered a beer and a large side of chili cheese fries, his stomach happy that this dive served food with its swill. His stomach had been growling since he’d been roused from bed before the crack of dawn. He wished Fury had disclosed why X5-452 aka Max Guevara had suddenly deserved SHIELD’s attention and Phil was stubbornly silent on the matter when he’d walked Clint down to the hanger deck. 

After three hours, four beers, and two orders of fries there was still no 452 and he was bored stiff. He was used to much longer solitary assignments, but sitting high up on a perch waiting to take a shot wasn’t near the same thing as sitting in a bar all on his own. He wished Natasha had come in with him instead of waiting in their surveillance vehicle down the block, most likely using the downtime to read one of those trashy pulp novels that she refused to admit she kept stashed in the old copy paper box at the back of her closet. He didn’t use to mind the solitude, but ever since joining up with The Avengers he found he enjoyed the team dynamic. He was never going to tell Natasha that, because best friend or not, she’d still call him pathetic and file it away in the space in her head she reserved for blackmail material. 

He perked up when the hottest guy he’d seen in a long time came bounding down the stairs. Now that was a recruitment assignment, Clint thought, watching as X5-494 turned to talk to two of Max Guevara’s other known associates. He forced his mind back to the job as Cynthia ‘Original Cindy’ McEachin and Calvin ‘Sketchy’ Theodore followed the transgenic known as Alec McDowell to a secluded corner of the bar. If they were all there then it was a fairly safe bet that 452 wouldn’t be far behind. Not far behind turned out to be 43 minutes and 12 seconds, not that Clint was keeping close track or anything. Max, to Clint’s relief, arrived alone. Clint had worried when Max hadn’t arrived with her other co-workers that she could be coming later with Logan Cale or not at all. Cale had been identified by S.H.I.E.L.D. years before as the underground journalist Eyes Only, but Fury had chosen to leave him alone for the time being since his work hadn’t interfered with any of the organization’s operations. Cale was only a concern now, because there was a good chance that the journalist could identify Clint on sight. There was a small chance that Max and or Alec could as well, though the consensus was that scenario was highly unlikely.

And here we go, Clint thought as Max approached the bar. He still had no idea what tactic to take. It had been easy with Natasha. She’d been obviously unhappy with her plight and wanted a way out even if it meant death at his hands. He’d been watching Max for close to an hour and she was clearly not in that state of mind. She’d looked relaxed and amicable as she drank with her friends until Alec apparently said something to piss her off and sent her flouncing toward the bar. “Thank you, Alec,” he muttered under his breath just as Max dropped onto the barstool next to him. 

“Buy you a drink?” Clint offered. The look he got as a response had him wishing that he’d been carrying his sidearm. I’m not hitting on you, ma’am; I’ve got a husband at home. I just thought you looked like you could use a drink.”

“Sorry, Alec has that effect on me.”

“The hot guy?” Clint asked nodding toward the table she came from.

“Smart ass guy is more like it, besides I thought you said you were married.” Max said. 

“Married doesn’t mean dead. Phil wouldn’t hold it against me. He knows I like to look.”

“And if you decided to touch?” Max asked.

“I wouldn’t. I’m like a swan, mated for life,” Clint said, grinning. 

“Not another one,” Max said, rubbing her forehead. 

“This guy bothering you, Maxie?” Alec asked, standing between Clint’s and Max’s barstools, an empty beer pitcher dangling from what Clint knew was his dominant hand. 

When Max gave Alec the same look she’d given him at his drink offer, Clint bit down on the inside of his cheek and tried to make his face as blank as possible. 

“Fine, suit yourself,” Alec said, handing the bartender the pitcher for a refill before heading back to his friends. 

“I’m going to give you some advice you didn’t ask for. Smart ass or not, he cared enough to come check on you,” Clint said. 

“It was his turn to get the beer,” Max said. “Anyway, he’s nosy.”

Clint shook his head. The girl just wasn’t going to give the poor guy a break. If Alec was anything like Tony, the kid was just trying to make up for the lack of attention he got as a child, even if the attention he was getting was of the negative variety, or at least that was Phil’s theory on why Stark was such a pain the ass most of time. A theory Clint personally agreed with and thought probably applied to Max’s friend as well. “ Look, if your situation gets intolerable here or you and yours start attracting too much of the wrong kind of attention call this number,” Clint said, handing Max a business card printed with nothing but a phone number and S.H.I.E.L.D’s logo. After climbing down from the stool, he limped briskly toward the stairs before turning around when he felt she was still following him with her eyes. 

“Who should I ask for?” Max asked. 

“Ask your boyfriend,” Clint smirked, tilting his head toward Logan Cale who was talking quietly, but animatedly with Alec as the pair stared him down. Forgoing his cover in lieu of speed, he bounded up the stairs and into the wet Seattle night.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the current Into A Bar challenge.


End file.
